


Somebody Else

by Veronicasawyerr



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Childhood Friends, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Song Lyrics, Song fic, boom childhood trauma from him, but then Jd does the Jd thing, ending is also different, follows the same plot as heathers except Jd lived in Sherwood his whole life, he and Veronica were best friends until DGW, jd dies, like in cannon, then Murder, then dating, this may be sad, you know the rest, you'll see that though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:47:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25175608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veronicasawyerr/pseuds/Veronicasawyerr
Summary: There's only one way out.It's a road she doesn't want to take.But she's not shooting Jd.He's not Jd.This is somebody else.Song: Somebody Else by Flora Cash
Relationships: Jason "J. D." Dean/Veronica Sawyer
Comments: 7
Kudos: 26





	Somebody Else

_I saw the part of you_

  
_That only when you're older you will see too_

  
_You will see too_

Or, Jd would if he ever had the chance to grow older. That was what hit Veronica the hardest as she held the gun to his head, ready to shoot. They used to have endless conversations about what they would do when they grew up. How Jd wanted to be an astronaut, and Veronica wanted to be an author, writing books like Harry Potter. Jd would tell her all about how he was going to escape Sherwood and bring her along, how they would move to a huge city, or build there own. Ten years later, they probably would've done the same thing- but Jd will never get the chance. Because he will never get to grow up.

Truly, it was either him or the 700 students above them, stomping happily at their pep rally, blissfully unaware of the horrors occurring beneath them. Veronica would choose Jd over many things- college, a job, her own happiness, hell, even her own life. But in the past few months, she watched herself ignore all of her moral instincts for Jd, to keep them safe. She lied, cheated, killed. It wasn't right. And neither was blowing up 700 (almost) innocent children, so she would choose them. Over Jd.

Jd, who never saw the good in himself. Self-deprecating jokes were a regular coping mechanism for the boy, but Veronica never found them funny. Especially in their teen years, he openly admitted to believing he was a terrible person, something Veronica completely disagreed with. Sure, he never had the fierce sense of right and wrong that veronica possessed, but he wasn't evil. He was broken. There was something underneath the shattered, jagged pieces of his heart- something good.

Everyone is born a good person, Veronica believed that whole-heartedly. It's the environment they grow in and the people that surround them that can infect someone's goodness, and turn it into something else. Like now, Jd. Abusive asshole dad, dead mom. Shoved around by Kurt and Ram until he grew, and became a loner. Alone, except for Veronica. Jd had no excuse for what he was doing, only reasoning. The rotted away exterior of his soul made him believe that he was a horrible person, that he deserved to die along with everyone who had everyone hurt him or someone he loved.

Veronica knew better. Jd was beautiful, and she could see it. not just on the outside, but in every crevice of his soul. He would have seen it one day too if he had ever gotten the chance to grow up. 

_I held the better cards_

_  
But every stroke of luck has got a bleed through_

_  
It's got a bleed through_

_  
You held the balance of the time_

_  
That only blindly I could read you_

_  
But I could read you_

She used to be able to read him like a book. It was a talent in a way, just like her forgery skills. She could take one look at his face and know his troubles, his fears, his source of joy. If only said instinct would kick in now.

Jd's face was unmoving, practically unrecognizable. The boiler room's lack of light turned his once warm brown eyes cool black, deep shadows on his face lurking ominously. Veronica shook her head at him, trying to make him see. If he saw her, she'd be able to see him. She'd be able to see him again, read his emotions, and help him. Help him see that he was making the biggest mistake possible. She stared into his eyes as tears filled her own, silently begging him to stop. To drop his guard, to let her in as he had before. She could try to help him, but only if he let her in.

He had always been a bomb. A ticking bomb with a timer, reading to explode by the minute. She reset the timer as often as possible, calming him down, giving him more time. But ever since they committed what Veronica had originally thought was an accidental timer, the bomb had gone into combat mode. She couldn't reset it, she could only try her best as she watched time run out for Jd, for Sherwood. He had gotten his taste of death, and he wanted more. So the timer sped up.

Kurt and Ram's death only encouraged it. Start small, one person. Next, he went for two, and before Veronica could convince him to take a deep breath, he wanted more. 700, to be exact. 700 _teenagers_ who may have fucked up, who may have been cruel and stupid and awful, but were still teenagers. Teenagers who had a chance to change, to be better people. And they would be, they just needed that time. She could give the time to them, or to Jd.

She chose them.

_It's like you told me_

_  
Go forward slowly_

_  
It's not a race to the end_

He had always told her to slow down. Veronica Sawyer was a bullet through life- writing and reading and documenting the world, sharing her voice, and listening to others. She signed up for everything possible, let herself be part of everything she could. When Jd wasn't at school, she wasn't at recess. She was in the library, packing knowledge into her small head. Sometimes Martha would drag along, but more often than not, she was alone. 

Jd taught her to just sit on the swings, to drink a slushy. To take things slow. How ironic.

How ironic, that he taught her to take things slow. Because now Veronica Sawyer was shaking fast, taking quick steps towards Jd, as he took slow, lazy ones backward. His usual lovable smirk was nowhere to be seen, only a sinister glare that he had never shown her before. Maybe it was reserved for his father, maybe it had never been used- but she had never seen it. Maybe that was what caused the tears to stream down her cheeks as she pressed the gun farther into his forehead.

She started speeding through life again when she joined the Heathers. Alcohol and drugs in the back of a Mercedes was not something you are calm for, there's no time to stop and smell the roses. She took a shot and loaded into the Fastlane, watching the blurred street lights of life fade into pure adrenaline. Jd was left behind. 

He lost the race. Again.

_Well you look like yourself_

  
_But you're somebody else_

  
_Only it ain't on the surface_

The face of Jd looked like Jd. If she was ten again, and she saw him, she would know it was her best friend. Sure, puberty took away his chubby cheeks and gave him stubble, a result of not shaving in weeks, but he was the same Jd. Freckles on his nose and cheeks, warm olive skin, untamable black hair. His eyes were different. Veronica felt her heart physically break when she recognized what was missing- his love for her.

It had always been there, since the moment they met in Mrs. Lee's kindergarten class, too when he finally confessed that he loved her as more than a friend, and she agreed. It softened everything, filled her with an unexplainable feeling. Words couldn't do justice to the butterflies, the safety, the happiness. Nothing but dread filled her now, as Jd starred at her with a cold, hard expression, his eyes dead.

It looked like Jd, but Jd would never lose his love for her. He promised her that- he promised. After everything with his mom, commitment was important to Jd, so he barely committed to anything. He committed to loving Veronica forever, to protect her. This couldn't be Jd, this was someone else. Someone too far gone to be saved. Someone who had been failed. Veronica had failed him.

"Well, Ronnie, are you going to shoot, or are you going to stand and cry all day?"

_Well you talk like yourself_

  
_No, I hear someone else though_

  
_Now you're making me nervous_

His voice was the same. His words weren't out of character- they appeared dry, emotionless, sarcastic. Usually, there was a deeper meaning behind the mask, and Jd meant something else. Right now, he was trying to tell Veronica to shoot.

That _was_ out of character. He would never leave her, he promised. Jd didn't break promised. 

His words didn't reach her heart like they often did, they stopped at her brain. It couldn't be Jd talking- it was someone else again. Possessed by hatred, fear, and anger, he was a defeated man. His glare never faltered, his line stayed in a straight line. Veronica scowled a bit, willing to show emotion. She didn't care if she was crying, maybe it would help. Maybe if he saw the pain he was inflicting upon her, he would stop. He always stopped.

_You were the better part_

  
_Of every bit of beating heart that I had_

  
_Whatever I had_

They made each other better. Jd slowed Veronica down, let her know she had time left. He told her that she didn't have to be perfect, that one mistake was not the end of the world. That was a key difference between him and the heathers- their idea of perfection. When it was just him, she spent more time thinking of math problems than she did her appearance. She never looked bad- but she never truly thought about it. When she joined the Heathers, it was lipstick this, blazer that. Jd pulled her away from that mess.

Veronica kept Jd sane, in a way. Every so often, it would all get too much, and he got thoughts. Sometimes they were thoughts of killing his father, somethings everyone, sometimes himself. He couldn't fight it- only try to stall it. Veronica could almost fully diminish them with only a touch on his shoulder, a small smile. She was everything good in the world, the only thing _right_ in it. Just her presence reminded him that he wasn't alone, that he had something- someone to stay alive for.

Without each other, they would have been long gone. Veronica, a fully-fledged Heather, her original self abandoned, Jd, dead. 

But now, at the end of his quick spiral into certain insanity, Veronica couldn't save him. She would have to be his end. "Jd, you are _not_ doing this, throwing everyone's lives away! Turn off the bomb right now."

He only laughed. "This little thing? I'd hardly call this a bomb- this is just to trigger the pack of thermals upstairs! _Those_ are bombs. People are going to see the ashes of Westerberg highschool and think 'there's a school that self-destructed not because society doesn't care- but because that school _was_ society!' The only way for all of us to live happily is to live in Heaven!"

_I finally sat alone_

  
_Pitch black flesh and bone_

  
_Couldn't believe that you were gone_

It was then Veronica realized Jd was already gone. He had been long gone before he poured the Drano and before he fired the first bullet. She had been blinded by the love, too stupid to see that he wasn't there anymore. He was gone.

It was a terrible feeling, standing on the stairs. If Jd thought they would be going to Heaven, he was wrong, because the boiler room looked quite similar to hell. Where they'd both end u[. 

"I wish your mom had been a little stronger, I wish she stayed around past your childhood. I wish your dad were good, and I wish that the stupid grown-ups got us! I wish I could have saved you from yourself, from the bomb inside of you. God, Jd, I wish you'd come with me, turn off the fucking murder weapon, and leave. Jd, please, don't you want a life with me?" 

Blind regret and passion stumbled out of his hard expression in a flash, so fast, so almost missed it. But she saw it and lingered in the knowledge that Jd was still alive inside before it all went away. "Aw, and I wish I had more bombs!" 

His voice echoed louder than a jet plane. Veronica flinched at the sound and was caught unprepared when he lunged at her, grabbing the gun. She was stronger than she looked. Maybe Veronica was short and somewhat skinny- it didn't change the fact that she had been through shit and knew how to put up a fight. The gun dangerously being tugged back in forth between the two, it was almost a fair fight. Even though Jd was easily stronger and towered over the girl, he didn't want to fight. She had more inside of her, more reasoning. She wanted the gun more than he ever could.

But the gun had a mind of it's own.

_Well you look like yourself_

_  
But you're somebody else_

_  
Only it ain't on the surface_

The gunshot ran through the practically empty, metal-lined room. She froze, expecting the pain to hit, for herself to fall.

It wasn't her, but Jd.

But it wasn't Jd. 

_Well you talk like yourself_

  
_No, I hear someone else though_

  
_Now you're making me nervous_

If she thought that his eyes were dead before, she should see them now. Fading away slowly, a light flickering out too soon. It wasn't deserved. Maybe she deserved it, but not him. He was sick in the head, he didn't know. She tried to help but only made it worse. She shot him, she killed him. Now she would have to pay the price.

_Well you look like yourself_

_  
But you're somebody else_

_  
Only it ain't on the surface_

_  
Well you talk like yourself_

_  
No, I hear someone else though_

_  
Now you're making me nervous_

Bomb in hand, football turf beneath her feet. At that moment, she prayed Jd was right. She prayed that they would go to Heaven, see each other again, make it all right. He deserved to live, but did she? She knew what she was doing was wrong, yet she went along with it. She stayed with him for far too long, she should've called 911 long ago. 

It was too late now, too late to bring them all back. Heather Chandler would forever be 17, hair perfect, an ideal member of society. Kurt and Ram would be forever 17, football helmets on their caskets, their reputations tarnished forever. Jd would be forever 17, dying alone on a cold, hard boiler room floor, shot by himself, or his love, the world will never know. Veronica Sawyer will be forever 17, probably all over a football field, diary in her pocket. At least no one would ever know the truth.

None of them would ever grow up.

Heather would never see that being cruel doesn't make you powerful.

Kurt would never see that morals were there for a reason.

Ram would never see that others also had souls.

Veronica would never see that life isn't a race.

Jd would never see that he's beautiful.

_I saw the part of you that only when you're older_

  
_You will see too, you will see too_

**Author's Note:**

> This was so much more dramatic than intended lmao, hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
